I'll Stand By You: Carchelle
by bananabreakdowns
Summary: It's Halloween 2019, and Michelle's world has come crashing down. Can Carla pick up the pieces?
1. Chapter 1

Michelle stared at the mess that lay before her on the floor of their flat.

"Oh god..." She breathed, her breath catching in her throat. She stumbled backwards, reaching for the kitchen worktop to steady herself. Her knuckles whitened as she clung tightly to the surface, waiting and hoping desperately that the man she had once loved so dearly would move. Just a tiny movement would be enough: a twitch of a finger; a blink of an eye. But still nothing. Michelle brought her free hand up to cover her mouth as she stifled a sob.

Suddenly snapping out of her trance, she reached over to her bag, fumbling inside for her phone. She flipped open the case, tapped in the passcode with trembling hands, and immediately dialled the number of the only person she could think of.

After three rings, she picked up.

"Carla?" Michelle whispered.

"What? Chelle, I can't hear you, let me... I'm going outside, one sec..."

The sound of Cher's 'Believe' blaring through the tinny speaker told Michelle that the party in the Rovers was still very much in full swing. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, knowing that her boys would still be there until the early hours of the morning, buying them some extra time.

"Right, start again, I can hear you now." Carla stated.

"Carla, please come here."

Carla recognised the panic in her friends voice immediately.

"Where's here? The Bistro?"

"The flat."

"I'm on my way, babe."

Michelle put the phone down and turned back towards the floor by the dinner table. Still no movement. She took a step forward, hoping her movements would encourage something from her partner. Still nothing.

The buzzing of the front door caused her to jump. She took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

"It's me."

Unable to form the words to reply, Michelle pressed the button to allow her friend into the building, waiting until she heard that familiar knock on the door before releasing the latch, opening up the horrors of what was inside to the outside world.

Carla's face was ashen with worry underneath the cat whiskers that she had reluctantly drawn on. It was typical Carla, not wanting to get fully dressed up. She wore her usual black jeans and black top, but now sported a pair of cat ears over her flowing dark curls. In all the drama, Michelle had forgotten that it was Halloween, and that she too was dressed up. As an angel, ironically. Although, at some point in the evening she had lost her halo. It was like some sort of sick metaphor, she thought. It should have been the other way round. She should have allowed Kate to be the angel and taken on the role of the devil herself. After all, that's what she felt like, after what she'd done.

"What's happened?" Carla asked, coaxing the door slowly open. Seeing Michelle's tear stained face had started her heart beating faster.

"It was an accident..." Michelle whispered, still not allowing the door to fully open.

"What was? Chelle, you have to let me in." She too was starting to panic.

Michelle shook her head as she stepped into the flat, allowing her friend to fully enter. She immediately slammed the door behind her, causing Carla to jump. She didn't want anyone else in on their secret. Not yet, anyway.

"Oh, Chelle..." Carla breathed, taking in the room. Michelle started crying again.

"I've killed him!" She cried, clinging desperately to her friends arm.

"Have you called an ambulance?" Carla asked, calmly.

"What? No, look at him! He's dead!"

"But do you know that? For sure? Have you actually checked?"

Michelle shook her head. If she didn't check, there could still be a chance. He could still be alive, and she wouldn't have to face up to this.

"Oh god, Chelle..." Carla breathed. She gently shook off Michelle's tight grip, and took a step towards the body on the floor.

Michelle watched as Carla tried to find a pulse. She seemed so calm. Michelle felt a sudden pang of guilt. After everything she'd been through in the last year, this was the last thing Carla needed. It had taken so much to get her back on track, back to something of the woman she used to be. Now that she was so nearly there, Michelle had landed this at her doorstep.

"I shouldn't have made you come here..." Michelle stated.

"I'm glad you did." She replied, her fingers trembling on the spot where a pulse should be. She was desperate to find one. She knew that Michelle would never survive prison. And even if it didn't get that far, her own guilt would eat away at her slowly, and she'd never be able to handle it.

Please just let me find something, she willed. But deep down she knew that there was nothing there. Robert was gone. And now she had to break the news to Michelle.

Michelle was chewing nervously on her fingernails, waiting for Carla to breathe a sigh of relief and tell her that everything was going to be okay. The longer she had to wait, the quicker that hope was fizzling away, until all she was left with was the heavy feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

"He's dead, isn't he?" She whispered. Carla looked up.

"I'm not a doctor, I might..."

"You don't have to be a doctor to find a pulse. I've killed him, haven't I?"

There was no response.

"Haven't I?"

Carla nodded sadly. Michelle buried her head in her hands and sobbed. She felt herself being pulled into a tight hug, and allowed her head to rest against Carla's shoulder. She had always felt safe in Carla's arms, and this time was no different.

"Why don't we ring Ali? He'll be able to help." Michelle pulled away, shaking her head.

"He can't find out. He'd hate me."

Taking Michelle's face in her hands, Carla forced her to look at her.

"You need to tell me exactly what happened, and then we're going to think of a plan." She stated, trying to keep her voice steady.

"There's wine in the cupboard..." Michelle said, gesturing vaguely to the kitchen. Carla had drunk enough wine in this flat to know where it would be.

Michelle made her way to the couch, shuffling past Roberts feet, feeling sick to the stomach. She grabbed the blanket that was resting over the arm and arranged it over him.

"Good shout, he was unnerving me..." Carla nodded, bringing the bottle of red and the two biggest glasses she could find over to the living area. They sank into the sofa as Carla poured out the blood red liquid.

"We had a row..."

"I gathered..."

Michelle took a deep breath. "He'd been seeing someone else. Not just recently, for months. Since before we got back together." She twisted the engagement ring that sat on her finger, the diamond glinting as it caught the light.

"Who?"

Michelle looked up to meet her friends eye.

"Vicky." Michelle stated, venom dripping in her voice.

"That little..."

"Oh, and she's pregnant." There was a stunned silence. Michelle let her head fall into her hands. "Why does this keep happening to me?"

Carla rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her, while taking a long sip of wine. God knows she needed it.

"How did he die, Chelle?"

"I stormed out of the Bistro when I found out and came straight here. He followed me. Oh god, Carla, everyone saw me, saw how angry I was. They're going to know it was me."

"Chelle..."

"He kept saying it was me he loved and that he didn't want her, I was the one. But I'd been there before, hadn't I, with Steve. I told him to get out but he wouldn't listen. He grabbed me and I panicked..."

She paused to glance at her friend. Carla's lips were locked tightly together, and Michelle could tell she was silently seething.

"I pushed him. Hard. He hit his head on the table and that was it..." She trailed off.

"Go and pack a bag." Carla whispered, her eyes locked firmly on the glass in her hand, not daring to meet Michelle's.

"What?"

"Just do it. Please."

"Okay..." Michelle downed the rest of her wine and crept into the bedroom, not allowing herself to look down at the body on the floor. Carla took a moment to regain her composure, wiping away a tear that had escaped her eye. Michelle couldn't go to prison, there was no way. She finished her wine, and stood up.

"Chelle?" She called, "I'll be back..." And with that she swiftly left the flat.

Michelle emerged into the living room to find her friend gone. She was alone again with the mess she'd made. Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced down at the body shaped blanket on the floor. She clamped a hand tightly over her mouth to try and contain the sobs that were now wracking her body once again. She collapsed against the doorframe of the bedroom and sunk down to the floor, unable to take her eyes off the silhouette of the dead man that was supposed to be her fiancé.

She was startled by a knock at the door. She slowly crept towards it, hoping and praying that whoever it was would go away.

"Chelle, it's me, open up."

She let out a sigh of relief and opened the door just enough for Carla to slip in.

"You all packed?" She asked, breathlessly. Michelle nodded, throwing confused glances between Carla and the bag she was now carrying.

"Okay my car is parked at the bottom, we just need to get there without being seen. I'll explain everything in the car, but we really need to go right now."

"But..."

"No Chelle, we need to go. Get your bag."

Michelle rushed into the bedroom, throwing a few final items of clothing into the bag, zipped it up, and hurried back towards Carla. She had removed the blanket that had previously covered Roberts face and was now tapping one foot nervously as she stood by the door. As she saw her friend appear, she picked up her own bag.

"Where's your phone?" She asked.

"Over there..." Michelle pointed to the kitchen worktop where the phone sat alongside her handbag.

"Good, leave it there."

"What?"

"They won't be able to track you."

"Carla..."

"Don't look at me like that, Chelle. You've killed someone. They're gonna try and find you and the easiest way to do that is tracking your phone. Now come on."

She opened the door of the flat just enough to poke her head out, checking that the coast was clear. Once she was satisfied, she pushed Michelle into the hallway. She clicked the latch to make sure the door didn't lock behind them. Taking one final look at the body on the floor, she took a deep breath and left the flat.

Making it to the car unseen was easy enough. The party at the Rovers was still in full swing and the Bistro lights were still glowing through the windows. Michelle glanced at the small, digital clock on the dashboard as they pulled away. It had gone 1am, and she could feel the exhaustion beginning to creep up on her.

As they pulled out of Victoria Street, she heard the distant squeal of sirens getting closer. She sat up, and looked at Carla.

"I rang an ambulance." She stated calmly, not taking her eyes off the road ahead.

"Oh, right..." Michelle said, relaxing back into her chair as much as she could.

Before they had even left Weatherfield, Michelle was asleep. Carla was relieved that she wouldn't have to answer any questions for a while. It gave her some time to think. If she was honest, she knew they would never get away with this. She'd only worked out a short term plan, and even that was sketchy. She knew they couldn't do it alone. She vowed to call Peter as soon as they arrived. He'd be able to get them out of the country until things settled down.

It was 3am when Michelle awoke to the sound of rain against the window, and Carla's freshly manicured fingernails drumming on the steering wheel. For a brief moment she felt calm, unsure of where she was or what was happening. Then it dawned on her, and that feeling of dread and guilt washed over her once more.

"Carla?" She questioned, groggily.

"Mmhmm"

"Where are we going?"

"Devon." She replied bluntly. She had never got round to putting her house up for sale, so they'd stay there for a few days. With no phone to track Michelle on, and no one having seen Carla go near her, they'd be safe there, at least for a day or two. She knew it wouldn't take a genius to work out that they were together, but it bought them some time to call Peter and arrange a trip across the channel.

"Right." She paused for a moment, "Carla..."

"Yes?" She replied, her own tiredness making her snappy.

"When you said that they would try to find me..."

"Oh Chelle, I meant the Police. Don't worry about me, okay, I'm fine."

"Oh right, yeah. Sorry. But, you would tell me, wouldn't you, if..."

"Yes, of course. Just get some rest okay, we'll be there soon."

Michelle relaxed back into her seat, and allowed herself to gaze out of the window. Through the darkness of the night and the raindrops that had settled against the glass, she could just about make out the rolling fields of the southwestern countryside. It made her feel strangely peaceful. With Carla next to her, she felt safe. She knew that whatever happened next, they would stand by each other.

Despite all the men that had let her down, Michelle always knew that she at least had her one constant. Carla.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Trigger warning: there are very brief references to suicide attempts in one line of this chapter.**

Michelle clutched the warm mug of freshly brewed coffee tightly as she gazed out over the misty fields of Devon. From her spot on the balcony of Carla's spare bedroom, she could just about make out the sea on the horizon, waves lapping lazily over the sand. There was a peaceful quiet in the air, broken only by the whispered conversation Carla was having on the phone in the garden below, unaware of her friend listening in from above.

"Is it that bad?" Carla whispered into the phone.

"Place is absolutely swarming with police. They're asking everyone they see for eyewitness accounts." Peter's voice usually came as a comfort to Carla, but she could clearly hear the edge in it today.

"Have they spoken to you?"

"Yeah, caught me leaving the flat this morning..."

"And what did you tell them?"

"Well, the truth. I didn't leave the pub until the early hours, and went straight home. I didn't see anything. Don't worry, babe, they're not looking for you. No one knows you're gone." Carla breathed a sigh of relief.

"What about Michelle?" She asked, dreading the answer she knew was coming. She heard Peter sigh on the other end of the line.

"They're pretty convinced it was her, yeah..."

"Right..."

"Babe, I'm getting in the car now. I'll be with you just after lunch. Hang in there, I'll sort this. I promise. I love you."

"I love you..." She whispered, as he hung up the phone.

By now, Michelle had made her way downstairs and was stood in the doorway that led inside to the kitchen. Carla spotted her, and just about managed to muster up a sympathetic smile. Michelle remained stone faced.

"Can I ring Ali?" She said, her voice small and child-like. Carla shook her head.

"I don't think that's a good idea, babe..."

"Does he hate me?"

"Of course not, Chelle!" Carla took Michelle's hand and led her back inside, closing the door behind them. She sat her down at the kitchen table, and started pouring more coffee.

"What about Ryan?"

"Chelle. Stop worrying. Everything is going to be fine..." She lied. Michelle wasn't convinced. Carla sat down opposite her, placing the now refilled mugs on the table. They sat in silence for a while, neither one of them knowing what to say. Michelle glanced around the kitchen. Nothing much had changed since she was last here. The dead cactus on the window sill, the one cracked tile in the middle of the kitchen floor, the calendar hanging on the wall above the table that hadn't had its page turned since Carla had moved in in 2016. It had all been so comforting before, and yet now it felt like the walls were closing in.

"Can we go for a walk?" She asked. Carla looked up from her mug, surprised by her friends request.

"Sure," She said, "Where do you wanna go?"

"I don't care. I just can't sit here stewing for much longer..."

Carla reached across the table and took her friends hand in her own. She gave it a reassuring squeeze as she tried to comfort her.

"I'm scared, Car..." She whispered, her eyes wide and glossy with tears.

"I promise I am not going to let anything happen to you." Carla responded, keeping her gaze locked. And she meant it. Whatever happened next, there was no way Carla would let Michelle go without a fight. But deep down she knew that saving her from the police was not the only issue. She could already sense the guilt beginning to creep over Michelle, and she knew better than anyone what those feelings could do to someone. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she'd have to save Michelle from herself.

She took a quick sip of coffee, before rising to her feet.

"Well, I'd better get changed if we're going for a walk..." She said, giving Michelle a quick smile, and a reassuring rub of the shoulder as she passed.

* * *

The two women had wandered aimlessly along the cliff top, arms linked in solidarity, for the best part of nearly three hours. Carla felt Michelle shivering beside her and, unsure whether or not this was simply because of the November chill in the air, pulled her even closer.

"I think it's time we got back, don't you?" She said. Michelle nodded, absently. Carla stopped walking. "Hey, talk to me?"

Michelle met her friends concerned gaze. She didn't know where to start. She sighed.

"Everything just feels so wrong..." She began, lip quivering. They began to walk again, taking a right down the narrow path that would ultimately lead them in a circle back to Carla's cottage. "Running away to Devon in the middle of the night, not being able to talk to anyone. It just seems so surreal. Like a horrible nightmare. This sort of thing doesn't happen to people like me, Carla. Yesterday, I was the proud co-owner of a Bistro, engaged to the love of my life, with everything finally back on track. And today I'm a murderer on the run..."

"No, Chelle. It was an accident. You're not a murderer, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Then why can't we go home, and I'll explain it to the police."

Carla sighed. "Chelle. They won't see it like that. They'll think you did it on purpose, out of revenge or something, and they will lock you up."

"Maybe that's what I deserve." Michelle stated, forlornly. Carla stopped, and took her friends face in her hands.

"Listen to me, right. You are the last person on this earth that deserves that, do you understand me? We are not going to let yet another man ruin your life, okay? Especially not Robert Preston..." Michelle was crying by this point, wracked with guilt and terror.

"I loved him, Carla. Why did I do it? Why didn't I ring an ambulance straight away?"

"Because you were scared, Chelle." Carla comforted, linking arms with her friend and beginning to walk again.

They continued to walk in silence, the events of the previous night playing over and over in Michelle's mind. How could she have been so stupid? She wished she hadn't let him worm his way back into her life all those months ago. She wished she could push all of the good memories out of her head. That way, maybe she wouldn't feel so guilty. She wished she could forget about all the good times they'd had together, all the things he'd done for her. She wished...

"I wish he hadn't stopped me jumping off that bridge..." She stated, coldly. Carla stopped, stunned by her friends sudden outburst.

"Oh god, Chelle, you can't think like that. You will get through this, I promise!"

"Carla, I've killed someone. One of the only people in the world who truly loved me, and I killed him. I don't think I can live with that."

"Michelle, listen to me. He didn't love you. If he loved you he wouldn't have slept with Vicky. But I love you Chelle, more than anything. And I need you. I promise we will sort this..." Carla pleaded, pulling Michelle into a tight hug, not wanting to let go.

"I don't know what I'd do without you..." Michelle whispered, pulling away. Carla wiped away a tear from her friends cheek.

"You won't have to find out."

As the winding country path brought them back through the gate to Carla's front drive, they found Peter perched on the bonnet of his car, cigarette in one hand, phone in the other. He was furiously typing a message, and didn't look up until he'd sent it. The ding from Carla's pocket caused him to turn and look at them.

"You're here then..." Carla joked, weakly, gesturing to her pocket. No one laughed. Instead, Peter glared coldly at Michelle, who was looking firmly at the ground.

"What were you both thinking?" He sighed, exasperated.

"Not now, Peter..." Carla warned, nodding subtly to Michelle. Peter rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. She unlocked the front door of her cottage and guided them both inside, slamming it shut and firmly locking it behind them. She turned to Michelle.

"Why don't you head upstairs and get some kip, hey, babe? I don't know about you but that walk's really taken it out of me." She encouraged, rubbing her arm.

"What, so you can talk about me with him?" Carla looked guiltily at Peter. "You know what, yeah, whatever. Have your little chat. I'll be upstairs, laying awake, thinking about what a terrible person I am. Nice to see you, Peter." And with that she stormed upstairs.

"She always was a drama queen..." Carla laughed nervously, as she led Peter into the kitchen, softly shutting the door behind them, in an attempt to save her friend from the cold words that she knew were about to fly around the kitchen.

"What are you playing at, Car?" He said softly, taking her by surprise.

"What do you mean? I-"

"Carla. This isn't a game, okay? This is serious. A man is dead because of her!" He whispered, pointing aggressively towards the ceiling, where, in the room above, Michelle was curled up in a ball on the bed, sobbing into her pillow.

Carla's phone began to ring. Peter threw her a questioning glance. She pulled it out of her pocket and laid it on the table. Peter glanced at the screen, and sighed.

"And how many times has he tried to ring you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Carla shrugged.

"Too many..."

"And have you answered?"

She shook her head. With that the ringing stopped.

"He deserves answers, Carla."

"Yes, I know that, but I just can't risk it, can I?"

A notification popped up on the screen and Carla sighed.

_6 New Messages._

Picking up the phone, she dialled the number to access her voicemails. Ensuring speakerphone had been selected, she placed the phone back on the table.

"6 _new messages. Message 1:_

Um, Hi Carla, Ali here. Just wondering if you know where mum is? There's something going on at the flat and I can't get through to her... So yeah, ring me when you get this.

_Message deleted. Message 2:_

Carla, me again. I'm really worried now. No one's seen mum, and the flats been blocked off by police. Just please, if you know where she is, just get her to call me, yeah?

_Message deleted. Message 3:_

Carla, where the hell are you? I've just been to yours so I know you're not there, don't even bother lying to me. Robert's dead. I swear to god, if whoever did this has gone after mum and you haven't told me... Just please ring me and let me know she's safe.

_Message deleted. Message 4:_

Everyone's saying mum's done it, but she wouldn't, would she? She hasn't got it in her. If you ring me back and tell me that she's with you then I'll know she's safe. So just please, give us a call.

_Message deleted. Message 5:_

Please Carla, I know she's with you. She has to be. Everyone's out of their minds with worry. We all just want you both to come home safe. The police just want to ask her a few questions, that's all. If you don't answer then I'll know you're hiding something.

_Message deleted. Message 6:_

Carla... Whatever she's scared of, I know it won't have been her fault... She wouldn't hurt a fly... Not on purpose... Just tell her I know how she's feeling, and get her to give me a ring. Cheers...

_End of messages._"

"God Carla, he's going out of his mind!"

Carla rubbed her eyes, the exhaustion of carrying such a heavily weighted secret finally beginning to take its toll. "She wanted to ring him earlier, but I just couldn't risk her blabbing it to him over the phone..." She sighed. "We need a plan..."

Peter pulled out a chair from under the wooden table and gestured for Carla to sit down. She did, and he quickly followed suit.

"I've been in contact with a mate who reckons he can get Michelle over to France by tomorrow morning. The less you know about it the better. All you need to know is that we need to be in Plymouth by five."

Carla glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 10 past one. As she contemplated what he'd said, she came to a sudden realisation.

"Just Michelle? I'm sorry, Peter, but I can't just leave her on her own, not in the state she's in..."

"Carla, sweetheart. You can't be expected to carry this burden on your own. Michelle is an adult, she can handle herself."

"You haven't seen the state of her! Peter, I'm the closest thing to a sister she has. I'm not going to let her down when she needs me the most!"

"What, like she did, you mean?" Peter stated, his frustration evident.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Carla said, exasperated.

"Where was she when you were going through hell after the roof collapse, hey? Playing happily families with Kate and Johnny while you were-"

"That's enough, Peter!" Carla snapped. Peter sighed.

"She let you down, Carla. I just don't understand why you're the one that has to pick up the pieces every time her life falls apart, when she couldn't do the same for you!"

Carla noticed Peter's hand resting on the table. She took it in her own and offered him a reassuring smile.

"And how many people do you think thought that about us when the roof collapsed?"

Peter took a moment to consider what his partner had just said. She was right. Numerous people had questioned Peter's loyalty to the woman they branded a murderer. Maybe this situation wasn't quite so different.

"Okay, maybe you're right. But, I can't come with you, I've got Simon to think about..."

"It's okay, babe. I'll only stay a couple of weeks, until she's settled, and then I'll come back. It'll give me a chance to think about what I'm going to say to the police when they no doubt want to question me..."

Carla let her head fall into her hands as the weight of the situation dawned on her once more. Peter stood up, approaching her cautiously. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a strong but delicate embrace. She allowed her head to rest on his chest, inhaling the musky scent of his aftershave.

"And there's absolutely no way I can convince you to drop all this and come home with me right now?" He whispered into her hair, planting a light kiss on the top of her head. She sighed.

"I'm sorry, babe. She needs me."

They remained in that position for a long time, holding each other, neither one wanting to let the other go. They broke apart only when Michelle crept into the room almost an hour later.

Peter straightened up, clearing his throat.

"Did that nap do you any good?" He asked, trying his best to make civil conversation.

"I couldn't sleep." She replied bluntly. Carla noticed her red and puffy eyes as she took a seat beside her.

"Have you been crying?" She whispered, gently stroking her friends hair, tucking a loose strand carefully behind her ear.

"When can I speak to Ali or Ryan?" She asked, ignoring the question. Her voice was tired and croaky.

"I tell you what: I'll speak to Ali and Ryan as soon as I get back. Tell them that you're safe and not to worry." Peter suggested, hoping desperately that she'd take the bait.

"You're going back?" She asked, clearly confused by what he could possibly be doing here if it wasn't to run away with them.

"Peter's going back to Weatherfield, yeah, but not until he's seen us safely off to France." Carla explained.

"France..." Michelle muttered, clearly trying to make sense of everything. "But aren't we going to need passports?"

Carla glanced up at Peter, a look of horror plastered across her face. She'd assumed that when told to pack her bag, Michelle would have guessed a passport would be vital. She mentally scolded herself for not making it clear enough.

"Have you got yours?" He asked her. She nodded. "Then it's fine. My mate sorted a fake one for her, just in case the search had gone country wide..." Carla just nodded again. She didn't even want to know how Peter had made friends with someone who could attain fake passports at the drop of a hat.

"We need to think about heading off," He continued, "Give me your phone, I'll go get rid of it. I'll get you a new one with just my number in on the way, for emergencies. They might be able to track this one. I'll be back within an hour." He leant down, and planted a kiss on Carla's cheek. Grabbing her phone off the table, he left the house.

"You've got a gooden there..." Michelle stated, taking Carla by surprise. Usually, Peter and Michelle wouldn't have a good word to say about each other. Granted, over the last few months they'd become slightly more tolerable of each other, but she'd never expected a compliment directed towards her partner to ever come out of Michelle's mouth. The statement brought a smile to her lips.

"Yeah," She murmured, "I have..."

* * *

Peter sat in his car at the cliff edge, Carla's phone in his hand. He was satisfied that he'd driven far enough away from the house so as not to be traced back. His fingers hovered over the buttons, knowing that what he was planning to do next would go completely against everything she'd asked of him. He hated going behind her back, but this time he was convinced it was for the best. He knew what it felt like to have someone you love just disappear. He couldn't leave Ali in suspense any longer. He opened the car door, and stepped out into the crisp November air. Taking a deep breath, he pressed call.

He answered after just one ring.

"Carla?" Ali asked, his voice awash with relief.

"No Ali, it's me, Peter..."

"Peter? Oh right. Is mum there?"

"Not right now, no. But she's safe." He heard Ali breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

"She's safe!" He heard him call, presumably to the family. "Peter, please tell us she had nothing to do with what happened to Robert..."

Peter took another deep breath.

"No, of course not! God no!" He lied, "She just... Needed to get away for a bit..."

"Because of Vicky and the baby?"

"Yeah... Because of that..." He heard another sigh of relief.

"So she must have been gone before he died. Thank god she didn't have to witness it."

But Peter wasn't really listening. There was something significant still playing on his mind. Something that Carla had clearly overlooked, but that he couldn't shake off. It made him feel uneasy.

"Ali?" He asked, his voice lowered. Ali could sense his change of tone.

"Yeah?"

"What did you mean when you said you knew how she felt?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Ali?"

"Can I see her?" He asked, avoiding the question.

"I don't know. What did you mean, Ali?"

After a long pause, Ali spoke.

"Something happened, towards the end of last year. Mum was there for me when no one else was, and I just feel like I should be there for her now... You know, what with her fiancé dying under suspicious circumstances..."

"Right..." Peter mumbled, feeling less enlightened and more conflicted than ever. He knew that all Michelle wanted was to be with her sons, and all they wanted was to be with her. "Ali. I'm about to do something incredibly stupid. If this gets into the wrong hands it will ruin everything..."

"Peter, what are you talking about?" Ali asked, clearly confused.

"I'm going to send you a text. I want you to memorise what it says, and then delete it immediately. Do you understand me?"

"Yes..."

"And then I'm going to get rid of this phone so you won't be able to contact us again..."

"Okay..."

"Ali?"

"Yes?"

"Your mum really needs you. Both of you. Please don't let her down."

And with that, he hung up the phone, and with trembling fingers typed out the french address. With one final sigh, he tossed the phone over the edge and watched as it splashed into the water below.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Trigger warning: there is some mild violence in this chapter.**

Michelle glanced around the dingy looking flat, unsure of what to make of it. The traditional french shutters on the window were firmly shut, a sliver of light peeking through the crack, casting shadows across the wooden floor. There was a tiny kitchenette in one corner, a table with two chairs in the middle, and a double bed pressed against the back wall. To her right, was a door to what she presumed would be the bathroom. She scrunched up her nose. This was the definition of slumming it.

"God, this looks like me and Paul's first flat!" Carla laughed as she followed Michelle into the room.

"Looks like we'll have to share..." Michelle mumbled, nodding towards the bed. Carla chuckled.

"Ooh, it'll be like being 15 again..." Carla said, thinking back to the numerous occasions throughout their teenage years in which she'd crept round to Michelle's house in the middle of the night, seeking comfort from one issue or another. "No funny business though, do you hear me?" She gave Michelle's side a cheeky prod, "I'm a committed woman."

Michelle rolled her eyes, allowing herself the smallest glimmer of a smile. She hadn't let herself feel anything other than guilt or fear for the past few days. She didn't believe she deserved anything better. She felt Carla's arms snake carefully around her waist from behind, and her friends chin rest upon her shoulder.

"You okay?" She whispered. Michelle wrapped her arms over Carla's, leaning her head to the side so that they were cheek to cheek.

"I'm just glad you're here." Was all she could muster up.

"Why don't I make us a coffee?" Carla suggested, pulling away from the embrace and making her way over to the kitchenette. She opened all three cupboards, only to find them all empty. "Ah..." She spun round to face Michelle, who had sat down at the table. "Fancy taking in some of the local scenery?"

"Is that a good idea?" Michelle asked. Carla sighed.

"Michelle, if we could get through border security without being questioned, no one is going to suspect anything here. We're literally in the middle of nowhere." Michelle took a moment to consider it, before nodding and rising from her seat.

They walked arm in arm through the idyllic french town, the cobbled street reminding them of the home they'd left behind. They stumbled upon a quaint little coffee shop. It's awning was pulled out, despite no one wanting to sit outside beneath it in the November chill. Wisteria climbed the walls and snaked around the shutters of the window. The two women made their way inside, and headed straight to the counter.

"Flat White?" Carla asked Michelle, as they reached the front of the queue.

"What, you speak french now do you?" Michelle asked, her eyebrows raised. Whenever they'd been to France before, whether it be for business or girly weekends away, Michelle had always been the one to order food or drinks in broken french.

"Je voudrais deux cafés blancs, s'il vous plaît!" Carla said to the barista, eyeing Michelle smugly. They received their order and sat down at a quiet table for two towards the back of the café.

"Well," Michelle said, taking a sip of her drink, "I am impressed."

"Knew you would be." Carla smirked. "Bit more upmarket in here than Roy's, hey?" She mused, glancing around the space.

"Very European..." Michelle nodded in agreement. Carla felt her new phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to find a message.

_Home. Stay safe. P x_

She sighed. Michelle looked up from her coffee, an inquisitive look on her face.

"Peter?" She questioned. Carla nodded.

"He's home."

She desperately wanted to ring him, to hear his voice one more time telling her that everything was going to be fine. But she was under strict instruction not to make any contact unless it was a complete emergency.

Michelle could tell that being away from Peter was impacting Carla more than she was letting on. She felt terrible for putting her in this position, having to choose between her best friend and the love of her life. Naturally, if given the same choice, Michelle would choose Carla without a second thought. But that didn't make her feel any less guilty.

"You can go back whenever you want you know..." She stated, "I'll be fine." Carla shook her head.

"Do you really think I'd come all this way and then go home without even trying to look for a new pair of shoes?" She challenged, the light hearted tone in her voice not quite reflected in her eyes.

"Carla..."

"I'm serious, Michelle. Now drink up, because I want to go shopping."

* * *

Michelle and Carla bundled into the hallway of their building, giggling like school girls, shopping bags hanging off every arm. They didn't notice the attractive young man climbing down the staircase towards them until they'd bumped onto him. They jumped back, taking in the sight of this tall, tanned god. His jaw chiselled, hair tousled, looking every bit like one of the models they'd just seen on posters in almost every shop they'd visited.

"Excusez-moi" He said, snapping the women out of their trance.

"Bonjour..." Carla breathed in a sultry tone.

"Carla!" Michelle elbowed her, "What happened to being a committed woman?" She questioned, quoting her own words from earlier in the day.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But hey, you could do with a french toy boy..." She teased. Michelle shot her a look. "What? He was fit!"

"Carla. I've just killed my fiancé."

They both came crashing down to earth with a bump. It had been nice to escape reality for a couple of hours, weaving in and out of fancy french boutiques. But now it was time to face the music once again.

They trudged drearily up the staircase to the top floor of the three story building. Pushing on the door, Michelle was concerned to find it unlocked. Perhaps Carla had just forgotten to lock it behind her when she'd run back up to grab her sunglasses this morning. Turning into the room, Michelle gasped and dropped her bags at what she saw.

She ran into the room, scooping her boys into her arms. She couldn't stop the tears from falling, overwhelmed with relief at seeing the two most important people in her life .

"Thank god you're okay." Ali whispered into her hair, holding her tightly, the same way she had him when he'd let her in on his own terrible secret.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you find us?" Carla interrogated, her heart beating fast.

Ali pulled away from the hug, leaving Michelle and Ryan holding each other.

"Peter text me the address yesterday. Don't worry, I did exactly what he told me."

"And what exactly was that?" Carla seethed.

"Memorised it and deleted the message immediately." Carla let out a breath.

"So, no one knows you're here?" She pushed. Ali shook his head.

"Erm..." The knot in Ryan's stomach had tightened at seeing his aunt so panicked.

"Erm? What do you mean erm?" Carla demanded.

"Ryan?" Michelle asked, taking a step away from her son, who was now shaking.

"I'm sure it was probably nothing..."

"Ryan!" Carla shouted, dread settling in the pit of her stomach.

"When we were on the ferry, I kept seeing this guy, like, lurking around wherever we went. I didn't think anything of it until we stopped for petrol, like, an hour later. I saw him going into the shop. It might have been a coincidence, but it was almost like he was-"

"Following us..." Ali finished, the realisation setting in. "Why didn't you say something earlier?" He shouted.

"I don't know! I just didn't think!"

"What did he look like?" Michelle whispered, suddenly panicked.

"Erm, tall, dark curly hair-"

"Tanned?" Carla asked, as it dawned on her what Michelle was getting at. Ryan nodded. "We need to go, now!" She said, scooping up her bag.

"What? Why?" Ryan asked, looking at Ali for enlightenment. He was just as in the dark.

"He was here. We passed him on the staircase." Michelle breathed, joining Carla by the door.

"The police could be here any minute. We need to go." Carla took Michelle's hand, and turned towards the door.

"Wait!" Ryan protested. Michelle span round to face him. "You don't have to go. Just tell them the truth!"

"Ryan..." Michelle sighed.

"No, mum, listen to me. Just tell them you didn't do it and then we can all go home!"

"How thick are you?" Ali spat, pacing up and down the flat. Michelle shot him a warning look.

"It's not that easy, Ryan..."

"How can it not be? Please mum, just tell them the truth!"

"I killed Robert, Ryan! You want me to tell the truth? Well there you go!"

Ryan took a step back, stunned. Never, not in a million years, had he imagined his mum would be capable of that.

"You killed him?"

"I'm so sorry, Ryan..."

Ryan shook his head, a tear threatening to escape the corner of his eye. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You're a murderer..." He whispered, allowing the tear to roll down his cheek.

"No, Ryan. It was an accident!" Carla stated.

"Oh, and you believe that do you? You're only covering for her because you know when the police get here they'll blame you as much as they will her. Well, I hope the police do come here. You deserve to rot in jail!"

Ali launched across the room, tackling his brother to the ground. Michelle screamed as Carla rushed to pull them apart.

"How dare you! After everything she's done for you!" Ali screamed, trying desperately to land another punch, but failing due to Carla's grip on his arms.

"That is not going to help..." Carla said, gently.

Ryan sat up, blood trickling from his nose. Michelle took a tentative step towards him, but was greeted with a warning glare.

"Don't come near me..." He spat. "Clearly you're all in it together!"

"Ryan, it's not like that!" Tears were falling thick and fast from Michelle's eyes, so much so that he almost felt sorry for her. But he couldn't understand how the woman stood in front of him now: the woman that had sacrificed so much to raise him; had turned into such a monster.

"Please, will you just listen to me!" She begged, desperate not to lose her son.

"Ryan," Carla said, softly, "Please just give her a chance. I promise you've got it all wrong. Just let her explain." She carefully offered out a hand to help him up from the floor. Reluctantly he took it. He sat down at the little wooden table in the middle of the room, and glared at his mum. She didn't move. What could she possibly say that would make this right?

Michelle jumped as Ryan's fist loudly met the table.

"Come on then! Explain it to me!"

She took a deep breath, and sat down opposite him.

"It was an accident..." She whispered. She felt a firm hand rest reassuringly on her shoulder. She glanced up to find Carla staring at Ryan.

"I didn't plan it. I never meant for it to happen. I just didn't know what else to do..."

As Michelle spoke, Carla realised that they'd never fully discussed what actually happened that night. She didn't know if she was ready for all the gory details. Each night since she'd laid awake imagining what must have happened to make Michelle snap. She hadn't been convinced by the brief story she'd been told on the night itself, but didn't think it was the right time to pry. All she could do was hope that whatever it was wasn't as bad as what was going through her own head.

"We were having a huge row, about Vicky and the baby. I tried to leave but he wouldn't let me..." She stifled a sob as Carla gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Go on..." She whispered, hoping that Ryan was beginning to come around. Michelle continued.

"He had me pinned against the kitchen worktop. I was so scared, Ryan. I didn't know what he was gonna do. So I pushed him and he fell. He hit his head on the table and that was it... He was dead...

Ryan nodded slowly. It wasn't that he felt relieved, exactly, just a sort of reluctant acceptance that she hadn't murdered him in cold blood.

"We need to go. We've wasted enough time." Ali stated. Carla nodded, taking Michelle's arm in an attempt to pull her up. She, however, remained rooted to the spot.

"You go," She whispered, eyeing Ryan carefully. "I can't do this anymore."

"What?" Carla was dumbfounded.

"Ryan's right. I have to tell the truth. I'm sick of running, Carla. I just want this to be over." Carla pulled her up out of her seat so that she was facing her.

"It will be soon, baby, I promise. Just please, come with us now!" She pleaded, although her words fell upon deaf ears. Michelle had already made her decision.

"I can't..." She whispered, shaking her head.

"Then I'm staying with you. I'm not gonna leave you on your own." Carla stated.

"Carla, you've already done so much for me. I can't ask you to stay and get tangled up in this too. Please, take Ali and Ryan and get out of here." She met Carla's eyes, glistening with unshed tears, before pulling her into a tight hug. "Thank you so much. For everything." She whispered, holding her tightly. Carla couldn't bring herself to say anything. Instead, she pulled away, taking Michelle's hand. "Go on. Go home and find Peter. I hope you two are very happy together. You deserve it." She smiled. And she meant every word.

"I love you..." Carla whispered, the tears well and truly falling now.

"I love you too!" Michelle replied, giving her friends hand a final squeeze.

Ali handed Carla her bag, before turning to his mum. He wrapped her up in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry we let you down, mum..." He whispered. Michelle felt herself beginning to cry again. She pulled away and took his chin in her hand.

"You could never let me down. I'm so proud of you," She turned to Ryan, "Both of you."

He nodded.

"Bye mum..."

"I love you, both, and I am so sorry it has to be like this..." She said, giving Ali one final squeeze.

At the sight of her best friend having to say a final farewell to her children, Carla's heart broke. The only thing getting her through this was the thought that soon enough she'd be reunited with Peter.

Ali turned away from his mum, tearstained and ready to leave. But Carla was distracted by her phone vibrating once again. Not expecting another message, she quickly pulled it out of her pocket and read the words on the screen.

"Shit!" She breathed, her heart dropping.

_Police are here. Sorry I let you down. I love you. P x_

Before she had a chance to explain, the door of the flat came crashing down.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Michelle**_

Michelle sat quietly at the table in the interview suite, picking nervously at her fingernails. There was an eery silence in the room. She was alone, the events of the previous few days playing over and over again in her mind. She had no idea what the others would say. She also knew that she'd be the last to be questioned. Knowing they'd use everyone else's interviews against her, she had to make a decision.

_**Carla**_

"Chelle had found out that Robert had been having an affair. She called me, saying she needed to get away for a while. So I packed a bag and I took her to Devon." Carla stated, matter-of-factly.

"And did you suspect anything when you went to pick her up?"

"Suspect what? That she'd just bumped off her fiancé? Of course not. She's not capable of that." Carla laughed.

"What makes you so sure?"

She sighed. "Michelle isn't one to face up to her problems. She runs from them. As soon as she left the Bistro she was on the phone to me. There was absolutely no way, in that time, that she could have done anything to hurt Robert!"

"So, how do you suppose Mr Preston ended up dead then?" The sergeant pushed.

"Well I don't know, do I? Chelle and I were long gone by then..."

"Oh really?" The sergeant said, smugly. Carla took a deep breath.

"Yeah..."

"I don't think you're telling us the truth, Carla. You see, we have CCTV from the Bistro showing Miss Connor leaving at approximately 10:30pm and yet multiple eyewitnesses have confirmed that you didn't leave the pub until almost quarter to midnight..."

"So?"

"So, if you ask me, that's plenty of time for a murder to have taken place..."

_**Peter**_

"So, what you're saying, Mr Barlow, is that you drove all the way to Devon to drop off medication that Mrs Connor had forgotten to take with her on holiday?" The sergeant asked, raising an eyebrow. He clearly didn't buy the story, but as long as he couldn't prove otherwise, Peter knew they were in the clear.

"Yes. Carla's on antipsychotic medication. She needs to take it everyday to keep her symptoms at bay. I know how much not taking it would affect her, so I drove it down for her the next day..." Peter's voice was steady, despite his increasing heart rate.

"Does she often forget her medication, Mr Barlow?"

"Well, no, but..."

"But she left in such a hurry that it just happened to slip her mind?" The officer finished. Peter sighed.

"No. I found it on the floor in the bedroom, so it must have fallen out of her bag..." He lied.

"The bag she hurriedly packed at the last minute?" The sergeant pushed. He was clearly not going to give in. But, luckily for Carla, neither was Peter.

_**Ali**_

"We were worried about mum. When Peter phoned to let us know where she was, we just wanted to check she was okay." He stated, calmly. His plan was to tell the truth, but just leave some parts out. That way, he wouldn't feel like he was lying, and then the guilt wouldn't be so bad. "That's why we went over to France. We were worried that whoever did this to Robert could have gone after her next."

"And who do you think it could have been?" The sergeant asked gently. He'd clearly been given the 'good cop'. He let out a sigh.

"I don't know. Robert's upset a number of people in the past couple of years. It could have been anyone..."

"Did he upset your mum?" She asked. Ali nodded, hesitantly. "Enough to kill him?"

_**Peter**_

"Tell us more about this holiday, Mr Barlow. How long had it been planned?"

"I don't know. It was a spur of the moment thing, I guess..."

"How spur of the moment? When did you find out about it?" The sergeant pushed.

"I didn't find out until they'd gone." As soon as he'd said it, he regretted it. The sergeants face lit up, like a child in a sweetshop.

"And why was that, Mr Barlow?" He grinned.

"I don't know..." He whispered.

"Could it be because they wanted to make a swift getaway without anyone noticing?"

"No-"

"Does Mrs Connor often keep secrets from you, Mr Barlow?"

_**Carla**_

"You see, Mrs Connor, what I'm failing to understand is how you knew to alert an ambulance crew if, as you keep insisting, you'd already left Weatherfield when Mr Preston had died..."

"What?"

"For the tape, we are playing Mrs Connor exhibit 483." She watched as he pressed play on a small, portable cd player.

"_Ambulance. Is the patient breathing?_"

"_No, he's not._" A shiver ran down Carla's spine as the sound of her own voice clearly rang out in the room.

"_Okay, can you tell me what's happened?_"

"_I... I think he's fallen and hit his head._"

The officer paused the tape.

"Sounds an awful lot like you, don't you think?" He said, narrowing his eyes. Carla shrugged.

"Doesn't mean it was though." She stated, dryly. She felt a bit like a swan. Outwardly, she was presenting a calm, cool persona, but underneath she was flailing, trying desperately to stay above water.

"Well, then that would be strange. Especially considering the call was traced back to your flat..."

_**Ali**_

"So what did you talk about in the time between Carla and Michelle arriving in the flat, and the police? Because by what our agent has said, there was something of a twenty minute delay before they arrived..."

Ali shifted in his chair.

"Well you know, asked if she was okay, what she'd been up to-"

"Did anyone mention Robert?" She pressed. He gulped.

"Not at first, no. We were all just glad to see each other."

"But he was mentioned eventually?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

_**Michelle**_

It had been half an hour, and there was still no sign of anyone that wanted to question her. She was exhausted. She'd barely slept in days. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him: lying on the floor, bleeding. But she'd made up her mind.

The door swung open, and a man walked in. His grey suit fit snugly around his middle, and his hair was balding. He sat down opposite her.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Connor. My colleagues and I had a lot to... discuss..." He smirked, sending a shiver down her spine. "Should we start from the beginning?" He asked, fiddling with the recording equipment.

Michelle took a deep breath. She'd come this far, there was no way she was going to cave in now. After all, if she could lie to Carla, she could lie to anyone.

_**Carla**_

"Carla," He sighed, his voice softer than it had been previously. "We know you're lying about where you were that night. In fact, we're pretty convinced you were at the flat after Robert had been killed. We are, however, prepared to offer you a deal..."

Carla looked up, confused. The officer continued.

"We will let you and Mr Barlow walk free," He paused, noting the hopeful glint that had appeared in her eyes. "If you agree to testify against Miss Connor in court."

_**Ali**_

"Thank you very much for your time, Mr Neeson. You're free to go." The officer smiled, offering a hand for Ali to shake. He stood up and took it gratefully, relieved that his questioning was finally over. He made his way out of the interview room into the waiting area, where he found Ryan playing a game on his phone.

"You finished too then?" He asked, taking a seat beside him. Ryan nodded, deliberately not looking away from his phone. "Ryan, listen-"

"Ali, chill. I didn't say anything that's gonna drop her in it, alright? It'll be fine."

"Well you've changed your tune."

_**Peter**_

"That's us done for now. You'll need to wait here for a few minutes while I have a discussion with my colleagues. It shouldn't take long." The sergeant stood and left the room. Peter let out a sigh of relief.

Not for the first time that day, he thought about Carla. How was she coping with the stress of the interview? Had she stuck to the plan? He wished desperately that Michelle had never dragged her into this mess in the first place. It was typical Carla, to go rushing to her side at the slightest hint of trouble. He just hoped that if it came down to it, she wouldn't sacrifice herself for her friend.

_**Michelle**_

"I've already told you, he attacked me first!" Michelle allowed her head to drop into her hands in frustration. She'd been over and over it several times, and it was really starting to wear her down. The exhaustion had begun to take its toll, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could handle it. A sudden knock at the door brought her back to the present.

"Sorry to interrupt, can I have a word?" The officer said. Michelle lifted her head out of her hands, glancing to where he stood in the doorway. Beyond his shoulder, she noticed a woman, black curls scraped up into a high ponytail. Her stomach dropped. What the hell was she playing at?

"For the benefit of the tape, Officer Wilson has summoned me outside. Interview paused at 16:41..." He rose from the table, meeting the officer on the other side of the door.

"We've got a Ms Jeffries here, wanting to make a statement regarding the death of Robert Preston..." He explained.

"No, not a statement..." Vicky corrected, "A confession. I'm sick of lying, and I'm sure Michelle is too."

"Well then, Ms Jeffries. You'd better follow me."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Trigger warning: there are violent scenes and mentions of late miscarriage in this chapter.**

_"What are you doing here?" Robert hissed, pulling Vicky into the office, "We had an agreement!"_

_"Oh, well, I've decided that that agreement doesn't suit me anymore. Me or our baby. So I'm giving you one last chance to make your decision, before I tell Michelle myself. So, what's it gonna be Robert? Michelle, the so-called love of your life, or your son?"_

_"It's a boy?" Robert whispered._

_"Yes. Which you would have known if you'd have bothered to turn up to the scan. But oh no, once again poor, helpless Michelle needed you to be her knight in shining armour, over something trivial no doubt. So there you were, without even a second thought for your unborn child!"_

_"Your what?"_

_The pair spun round to find Michelle hovering in the doorway. She'd pushed the door open on Vicky's last sentence and heard every word. It was like a dagger had been forced through her chest._

_"I said, your what?"_

_"Michelle, I-" Robert took a step towards her, as she took one further away from him._

_"I am not talking to you!" She shrieked. She marched towards Vicky, and stopped only inches away from her face. "His what, Vicky?" She whispered through gritted teeth. She noticed a tear sliding out of the corner of the woman's eye, which only added to the fire of rage in the pit of her stomach._

_"I am so sorry, Michelle..." She replied, meekly._

_Michelle couldn't speak. This couldn't be happening to her a second time, could it? She slowly backed away and turned towards the door, which was being closely guarded by Robert._

_"Get out of my way!" She demanded, taking another step towards him._

_"Do it, Robert..." Vicky sighed. Michelle shot her a glare. She didn't need anyone, let alone a cheating little tramp like her, fighting her battles for her._

_Robert stepped away from the door, and as he did so Michelle stormed into the crowded Bistro. As she passed the bar, Kate noticed the tears that she wasn't trying hard to hide trickling down her face._

_"Chelle, wait! What's the matter?"_

_"Ask him!" She shouted, pointing at Robert, who had emerged from the office, "My lying, cheating scumbag of a fiancé!"_

_The noise of the Bistro had lowered, both customers and staff alike had their eyes fixed on the couple ._

_"Once again, Michelle Connor has been made a complete fool of by the man she loves more than anything else in the world. So there you go everyone! I hope you enjoy the rest of your Halloween evening, because I am done..." She spat, pulling the halo off her head and throwing it at Robert. And with that, she stormed out of the Bistro._

_Robert glanced back at Vicky, who was still hidden in the office, before turning his gaze to the Bistro. All eyes, as he had expected, were now on him._

_"Go after her then!" He heard Audrey cry from a table in the corner of the room. A muttering of approval followed. He sighed. _

_"Sorry Kate, will you and Daniel manage until-"_

_"Robert, I don't know what it is you've done, but you better sort it, do you hear me? She's been through enough. Now go!" Kate demanded, the disgust evident in her voice._

_Shyly, Vicky emerged from the office, her face red, keeping her head down as she rushed through the Bistro after Robert, trying her hardest to ignore the judgemental muttering that was currently reverberating between the four walls. She finally caught up with him by the entrance to Victoria Court._

_"Robert!" She called, breathlessly. He paused, the door pushed slightly open. She stopped to regain her composure, before continuing. "If you go up there after her now, you can forget about ever seeing me or our son again. Whether she turns you down or not, we are done..."_

_Robert took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Vicky..." He said, barely loud enough for her to hear, before entering the block of flats. Furious, she followed him. Knowing Michelle would never forgive him, she was determined to be there to watch the fireworks as he got turned down twice in one night._

_As Robert entered the flat, she quickly rushed down the corridor to catch the door before it slammed shut. She could just about make out Michelle sat on the couch between the gap in the door and the frame. Neither person inside had noticed her, and she kept quiet in order to ensure it stayed that way._

_"Please, Michelle, just listen to me!" Robert pleaded, taking a step towards her._

_"Why should I, Robert? I've heard it all before! Save your breath!" She shouted, standing up from the couch to face him._

_""Chelle-"_

_"Michelle!" She corrected, furious that he still considered them to be on nickname terms after everything she'd discovered that evening._

_"We'd split up when she got pregnant, you have to believe me!"_

_"Oh what, and you expect me to believe that was the only time? What do you think I am, Robert, a mug?"_

_"Michelle, please..." He took another slow step towards her, "You know I love you more than anything. As soon as we got back together, I told Vicky I wanted nothing more to do with her. Then she told me she was pregnant, so I kept meeting her, for scans and that. But the longer I left it the more I thought I couldn't tell you. I didn't want to hurt you again. But I promise, we have never, ever slept together since..."_

_Michelle narrowed her eyes._

_"Swear it," She whispered in a menacing tone, "Swear it on your baby's life..."_

_Vicky took a deep breath._

_"I swear on my baby's life, that I have not slept with Vicky since..." He stated, staring her dead in the eyes._

_"You liar!" Vicky screamed, startling Michelle and Robert as she burst through the door. "What about last weekend, hey? Or the Tuesday before that, or the Friday before that? Do I need to go on?"_

_"You're sick..." Michelle whispered, a wave of nausea washing over her. "Get out of my flat!" _

_"It's my flat too Michelle, you can't make me leave..." He stated. She was trembling with rage._

_"Fine. Tell me the truth. When did it start?"_

_"When you dumped me. I got drunk and she was there. But it meant nothing, Michelle. All I wanted was you!"_

_"Charming..." Vicky scoffed, folding her arms._

_"Oh what, and I suppose it meant nothing every other time as well then? Was I not enough for you, Robert? What does that tart possibly have that I don't?"_

_Robert was angry now. He couldn't understand why Michelle couldn't see that she was all he wanted. Vicky had been a mistake, but he knew that now. Michelle was all he wanted, and it was infuriating him that she couldn't see it._

_"Tell me! What can she give you that I can't?" She screamed._

_"A baby!" He finally snapped. "That's all I ever wanted, Chelle, but you just couldn't give it to me, could you?"_

_She laughed. A pained and manic laugh._

_"Oh what? The baby whose life you just swore and lied on?" She hissed, getting so close to him that she could feel his breath on her face, "You don't deserve it. I hope you've told him where to shove it, Vicks, because if it was me, I wouldn't let him anywhere near that baby..."_

_Michelle lost her balance as Robert shoved her, his rage at full peak. She landed sideways on the ground, quickly twisting round so that she was sat up facing him._

_"Ooh, a violent outburst! Why's that hey, Robert? Are you on steroids again?" She goaded. He just glared at her, taking deep, rapid breaths. She felt Vicky's hand grip her arm, in an attempt to help her off the ground. She shrugged it off._

_"Don't touch me!" She warned. Vicky took a step back, as Michelle pulled herself back onto her feet. "You know what? You're welcome to him, darling. We're done!" She spat._

_"Where are you going?" He demanded, grabbing tightly onto her wrist as she tried to pass. She tugged it away, as Vicky watched on in disgust._

_"Away from you!" _

_"Michelle, just let me explain, please!"_

_"No, Robert. I've heard enough!" As she reached for the door, she felt a sharp tug on her hair pull her backwards. She reached up in a panic, desperately trying to loosen Robert's grip._

_"Robert, stop!" Vicky screamed._

_"You can't_ _just walk out on me, Michelle. Not again, not after everything I've done for you!"_

_Vicky watched on helplessly as Robert dragged Michelle into the kitchen by her hair, the fury in her eyes had dissolved into a look of abject terror. She watched as he spun her around to face him, grip firm on her shoulders, and shoved her against the worktop._

_"I'm not letting you leave me, Chelle. I love you more than anything."_

_"Robert, please, let go of me..." She breathed._

_"Not until you understand. You don't get it, Chelle! I have to make you see-"_

_Michelle screamed as Roberts body collapsed limply on top of her. She mustered up the strength to push him away, and watched as he stumbled backwards, disorientated, before falling and smashing his head against the table. He landed face down on the ground. She turned towards Vicky, who was staring at Roberts body in shock, her breathing heavy, panic struck across her face. Their eyes met for a split second, before Michelle allowed hers to drop. She gasped as she watched Vicky drop her weapon, hands shaking with adrenaline. _

_"What have you done?" Michelle whispered. Vicky's eyes filled with tears._

_"I didn't know what else to do!" She cried, "I grabbed that and I hit him!" She gestured to the large metal doorstop that now lay on it's side on the floor._

_"What the hell did you do that for?" Michelle screamed._

_"I thought he was gonna kill you! Besides, he was alive until you pushed him and he hit his head! You're as much to blame as I am!" She shouted. Michelle brought her hand up to her mouth to stifle a sob._

_"We've killed him..." She sobbed, realisation setting in._

_Vicky brought her hands up to cover her face."What are we gonna do?"_

_"I don't know, Vicky, let me think!" Michelle sobbed. After a few moments, she straightened up, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "We need to get out..." She stated._

_Vicky nodded, and turned towards the door. Suddenly, she felt a hand wrap around her ankle. She screamed, and once again picked up the doorstop._

_"Vicky, no!" Michelle screamed, as she brought it down upon his head once more. Michelle turned away on the second hit, the sickening thud as metal hit skull sending shivers through her whole body. _

_Vicky continued her assault until she felt the grip on her ankle loosen. The doorstop fell to the floor with a thud. Both women stared at each other, the horror of what they'd done slowly dawning on them._

_"You shouldn't have done that..." Michelle whispered. "We could have walked away..."_

_"What? You really think he'd have let us walk out of here after what we'd just done?"_

_"I don't know, Vicky!"_

_"He'd have reported us for assault, or worse, attempted murder. He'd have made sure I never got to see my son. I can't lose another one, Michelle, I just can't!"_

_"What do you mean?" Michelle whispered, taking a step forward._

_"What are we gonna do?" Vicky pleaded, desperately trying to change the subject._

_"What did you mean, Vicky?" Michelle asked, her voice soft and sincere. Vicky sighed._

_"I lost my last baby at 25 weeks... I can't put myself through another pregnancy just to have my baby snatched away from me again." _

_Michelle felt a tear slip from the corner of her eye. She couldn't form the words to reassure Vicky that she understood. Instead, she rubbed her arm in an attempt to comfort the woman she had come to realise she had so much in common with. And in that moment, she knew exactly what needed to be done._

_"We need to clean this up..." Michelle said, wiping away her tears and gesturing towards the blood that had pooled around the weapon, "And then you need to get rid of that."_

_"Michelle..." Vicky whispered, weakly._

_"Please, Vicky," She said, putting an arm around the terrified woman, "You need to listen to me, and do exactly what I tell you, okay?" She tried to remain authoritative, but the slight waver in her voice let her down. Vicky sniffed and nodded._

_"I want you to take that, dump it in the canal, and then go straight home. Don't talk to anyone, don't ring anyone, just go home and go to bed." As she spoke, she reached into the nearest cupboard and pulled out a crumpled, plastic carrier bag. "Here, use that." She thrust the bag towards Vicky._

_"But what about you?"_

_"I'm going to clean up this mess, and then I'm going to call the police."_

_"What?" Panic struck once again across Vicky's face. "What are you gonna say?_

_"That it was me."_

_Vicky stood, stunned._

_"But... You didn't do anything. I did. Why are you taking the blame?"_

_"Your baby is already going to have to grow up without a dad. I can't sit by and let it grow up without a mum too," She sniffed, "Besides, I'll be more likely to get away with it. I can say it was self defence. He attacked me, I pushed him, and he hit his head on the table. That's the story we're sticking to, okay?"_

_Vicky nodded slowly._

_"I need you to help me turn him over. It's too obvious he's been hit like that..." Michelle gestured to Roberts body. She took a deep breath before crouching down beside him. Vicky followed, hesitantly. Somehow, between them, they managed to flip the body over so he was lying on his back._

_"That looks more like he just fell, doesn't it?" Michelle asked. Vicky nodded, although she wasn't sure. "Right, you need to take that and go..." _

_Vicky slowly picked up the doorstop, put it in the plastic bag and tucked it under her jacket._

_"Michelle..." She whispered, her eyes once again brimming with tears, "I am so sorry. For everything..."_

_Michelle offered a small smile, as Vicky turned and left the flat. She pulled out a wad of kitchen roll and began to mop up the puddle of blood. She gagged as the warm liquid seeped through the paper onto her fingertips, staining her pink nails an off-red colour. Once she had finished, she flushed the paper down the toilet, disposing of the evidence._

_She crept back into the living room and stared at the mess that lay before her on the floor of their flat._

_"Oh god..."_

* * *

"So, there you go. The truth. You went after the wrong woman." Vicky stated, finally.

The sergeant, who had sat in silence, listening intently to the tale, stood up.

"Thank you, Ms Jeffries. That information is invaluable."

As he left the room,Vicky let out a deep sigh. She'd finally revealed the awful secret that had been eating away at her for days. She thought it would make her feel better, like some sort of weight had been lifted. Instead, she felt numb. She just hoped it was enough to get Michelle off the hook.


	6. Epilogue

Carla entered the room, nervously, unsure of what to expect. She hadn't spoken to Michelle since she'd accepted the sergeant's bargain and agreed to testify against her in court. With the trial looming, she was surprised to receive a visiting order. She wasn't even sure they were supposed to see each other.

All the same, she arrived at the prison early, rehearsing her apology over and over in her head. She had left Peter waiting in the car; a sort of reminder as to why she'd made this decision.

As she took a step further into the visiting room, her eyes met Michelle's. She noticed her friends face light up as she spotted her and instantly felt more at ease. Michelle looked thinner and paler than when Carla had last seen her, but it was clear that the burden of guilt had been lifted.

"Hey you." Michelle smiled, as Carla took a seat opposite her.

"Hey..." Carla whispered. "Chelle, I-"

"If you're about to apologise to me then don't bother, Carla." Michelle stated. She rested her hand on top of her friends. "You're doing the right thing. Neither you nor Peter deserved to get caught up in this..."

Carla sighed. Despite what Michelle was saying, she still felt awful for it.

"Besides, I'm the one that should be apologising. I should never have dragged you into this..."

"Why did you do it?" Carla asked, quietly. The question had been on her mind ever since she found out the truth.

"Call you?"

"No... Cover for her."

Michelle shrugged. She'd asked herself that question over and over again as she lay awake at night.

"I guess I thought Vicky had more to lose." She stated. It was true. That night, Michelle believed she had lost everything. Her future with Robert had been destroyed, and she didn't think she had anything left.

"Oh, Chelle..."

"Carla, lying to you was by far the worst thing I've ever done. There were so many times I nearly told you the truth, but then I'd just think of Vicky and the baby and I couldn't..."

"Chelle, it's okay. I understand."

They sat in silence for a few moments, fingers linked, enjoying each other's company.

"How are Ryan and Ali?" Michelle asked, nervous of the response.

"Blaming themselves." Carla answered, truthfully. Michelle sighed.

"You'll take care of them, won't you? When I..."

"If you." Carla corrected. "Chelle, it won't come to that..."

"But it might, Carla. It's aiding and abetting a murderer. I could go down for life. I need to know you'll take care of them."

"Of course I will. But the jury will see it as self defence, I promise you..."

"She stoved his head in, Carla, and I let her do it..." She whispered, the fearful look returning to her eyes.

"But only after he attacked you."

Carla had been trying desperately to stay positive and to keep morale up among the family. But everyone, including Michelle herself, believed that this was it for her. It was like they'd already given up. But Carla wasn't going to let her go without a fight.

"I don't think I can do this..." She muttered.

"What?"

"Stand up in court and drop you in it."

Michelle sighed. "Carla, just get up and tell the truth. That's all you have to do. Think of Peter."

Even the mere mention of his name was enough to bring a small smile to her lips. He'd been her rock over the past few weeks. He'd always been there with a kind word, and to hold her while she cried, reassuring her that she was making the right decision.

"So, what's the gossip then?" Michelle prodded, desperately wanting to talk about something else. Carla paused for a moment, thinking.

"Not much really. You're the talk of the street, obviously." Michelle rolled her eyes.

"Obviously..." She thought for a moment. "What do they all think of me?"

Carla hesitated.

"There's been a... Mixed response..." Michelle raised an eyebrow. Carla sighed. "Most of them just think you're an idiot for covering for her. That's me included by the way..." She gave her a cheeky nudge, hoping Michelle would see the funny side. She gave a small smile.

"Hey, you always wanted to be on the front of all the magazines when we were kids!" Carla teased. Michelle giggled.

"Yeah... I was hoping it would be a glamorous photo shoot as opposed to a mug shot though..." She laughed.

"You still look hot. You know, all mysterious and-"

"Murderous?" Michelle finished. Carla snorted, trying to hold in her laughter. Michelle sighed.

"How did it come to this? I always thought you'd be the one to end up in prison..."

Carla laughed. "Yeah, you and me both!"

"If only my mum could see us now..."

"She'd probably still find a way to make this my fault." Carla mused. Michelle giggled.

"Has anybody spoken to them?" Michelle asked, her tone more serious. She hadn't heard from her parents in months, and in all honesty, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"Johnny said the police contacted them straight away. They thought that's where we'd gone. They're coming over for the trial."

"Oh, great..." Michelle said, sarcastically.

"Chelle, they're on your side. We all are."

"I know..." She mumbled. She was overwhelmed by the support her family had offered her. As terrified as she was, it was such a relief to her when Vicky had finally come forward and told the truth. At least now everyone knew that she wasn't a cold hearted killer.

Michelle sighed as a bell rang, signalling the end of their time together. Carla squeezed her hand.

"I'll see you at the trial..." She whispered, slowly rising to her feet.

"Carla," Michelle said, as her friend turned away. She looked back over her shoulder to meet her friends eyes. "Thank you. For everything. And don't be scared, okay? You know what you have to do."

Carla nodded, before turning to walk away. The next time she'd see her best friend, the woman she'd considered a sister for so long, it would be in the dock. Anything and everything she'd say would be used against Michelle, and would probably result in her being sent down for years. She wasn't sure she could do it.

She approached the car, quickly wiping away the fresh tears that had begun to fall since she'd left the prison. She had to be strong. She pulled open the door, sat down in the passenger seat, and leant her head back against the headrest.

"Did you tell her?" Peter asked, softly. Carla shook her head.

"I didn't have to..." He placed a hand gently on her thigh.

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't want to hear an apology. She said I was doing the right thing-"

"Which is exactly what I've been saying." Peter interjected. Carla sighed.

"I couldn't find the right time to say it after that... Oh, Peter, I don't know what to do. She doesn't deserve this."

"Baby, listen to me. Michelle said herself that she understands. She covered up a murder. She's not exactly innocent."

"I just feel so selfish..." Carla stated, allowing a tear to fall.

"You are the least selfish person I know, sweetheart. This is an awful situation to be in, and no one can blame you for doing what's best for you and our family. I need you with me. Not in some grotty prison god knows where. And more importantly, so does this little one."

He placed a hand gently across her stomach, using the other hand to wipe away her tears.

"This is our second chance, Carla. Please don't throw it away over Michelle."

Carla looked down to where his hand was still resting against her stomach. She knew that this was her future, and she wanted it so badly. But she couldn't bear the thought of it not including Michelle.

"I just don't know, Peter. I don't know what to do..." She cried. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her tightly towards him. She rested her head against his chest, feeling safe in his embrace.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay..." He soothed. "I understand. You don't have to decide anything yet. But whatever decision you make, just know that I'll stand by you. Every step of the way."

THE END


End file.
